


And one was fond of me

by JanaRumpandRCJawnn (JanaRumpandRCJawwn)



Series: A hundred sonnets [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Victorian, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Omega Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 12:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16158866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanaRumpandRCJawwn/pseuds/JanaRumpandRCJawnn
Summary: However premature the thought may have sounded, Viktor certainly felt that Yuuri brought a sense of completude to this queer family of his.--Between honesty and propriety, Viktor was never too wise in his leanings.





	And one was fond of me

**Author's Note:**

> In which Viktor's thrist furthers

However premature the thought may have sounded, Viktor certainly felt that Yuuri brought a sense of completude to this queer family of his, and he kept losing himself in such idle musings as he sat on his bed, embroidering some simple dresses for the servants to wear during the ball. They wouldn’t attend as guests, of course, but it couldn’t hurt to look beautiful for a special occasion - perhaps one of them would even catch a suitor’s eye, like often happened in the novels Viktor had read through the years. He meant Mila and Georgi, seeing as he was too old to entertain this sort of silly dream. Besides…

He looked up at Yuuri then, unable to spend much time without doing so when they were so close. The governess sat by the desk, planning lessons for Young Master Yuri even while distracted by Mila’s unending queries about the tea parties he’d been attending at Christophe’s house as of late. They should have already retired each to their own room like Leo had much earlier, good boy that he was, but time flew when one’s company was this fine. 

Viktor should have suspected that Georgi had been too quiet for most of the day, a long known signal that drama was on the horizon which was proved correct when the door swung open and the cook threw himself onto Viktor’s bed, sobbing most dramatically. Viktor barely looked up, used to such a scene. Every time the beta Lady he unofficially courted by letter refused his affections he found himself in this state. Viktor had told him more than once that she would never marry him, and that this insistence was not healthy, but there was only so much he could do. 

“Georgi, what happened?” Yuuri asked in clear compassion, expression soft and marred by worry as he came to sit gingerly on the bed as well. He patted Georgi’s shoulder and looked up at Viktor, eyes questioning his lack of reaction. Before he could say a single word, the alpha surged up to sob on Yuuri’s chest instead.

“It’s Anya, she has found a more appropriate fiancée for her social standards, and send me a letter to end everything.” He held onto Yuuri as if was the omega was a lifeboat, so Viktor decided to do his friend a kindness and try to soothe Georgi as well. 

“Georgi, there’s no use to all those tears. I’m sure all will be well soon enough.” 

Of course, he understood it the wrong way and started going on about how Anya would see the mistake she’d made someday. Mila showed no sympathy for his unreasonable babbling, and Yuuri seemed at a loss as for how to proceed. Viktor himself didn’t know what to do either, so Mila was the one to come up with a solution after all. She hefted the man to his feet and procured the day’s paper folded up from within her apron pocket. 

“Cease this spectacle already. Would you care for a poem to lift your spirits?” She smiled softly despite the harsh words. Viktor cheered in mind and soul in face of her proposition, having been to cautious to ask for a reading himself lest he betray his excitement. He had wondered a thousand time what Eros would write back after his own covert escapade into scandalous musings. 

The cook nodded, accepting the consolation and the handkerchief Viktor handed him to pat his cheeks dry. Mila smiled and posed by the door, back straight and chin held high, basking on the attention. 

“Ask me no more, for fear I should reply;  
Others have held their tongues, and so can I,  
Hundreds have died, and told no tale befoer:  
Ask me no more, for fear I should reply --

How one was true and one was clean of stain  
And one was braver than the heavens are high,  
And one was fond of me: and all are slain.  
Ask me no more, for fear I should reply.”

Viktor’s smile was subdued as the verses came to a most graceful close. This was so much more than he had expected from his own clearly forward poem. Was Eros truly alluding at pursuing something more between them? Would they even want Viktor if they ever met? Psique was everything he could never quite be, confident to reveal all Viktor kept locked tight inside. Either way, why fantasise about it when he already had a impossible temptation right by his side? If he resembled his persona at all perhaps he’d have already given his heart for Yuuri to take, perhaps there would be the slightest chance of him accepting it in return. 

Georgi was again sobbing as a child, and Mila was going on and on about her impressions and theories about the _secret love_ the two poets so surely shared. Viktor nearly laughed at all the glamour she imagined, but luckily was sensible enough to hold his tongue.

“I hope they really do talk someday.” Yuuri commented before sighing deeply, and Viktor’s hand trembled in his direction, craving to hold him and praise his sweetness. He limited himself to looking, longing maybe not as expertly concealed as it should have been, and Yuuri blushed as he tucked a silky strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s a silly and much too romantic a sentiment, I know.”

It indeed was, but they could all make do with some romance in their lives from time to time. And if the poems Viktor shared with Eros were all they could afford on this island, he was at least glad he could touch Yuuri’s heart as well. 

Not willing to dwell in such things while in the company of them all, Viktor rose to his feet and patted the cook on the shoulder. “Now, Georgi, let’s get you to bed.”

\--

Viktor had not been to many parties in his life. His mothers had died when he was yet a child, and he’d been taken to this island where the opportunities of social interaction were scarce. As for the Plisetsky manor, this was the first time in a decade that the ballroom was being put to good use. Even people Lord Nikolai knew from the capital had come, a marked success for the event. 

Master Nikolai was currently mingling with some older business associates and thus not requiring Viktor’s presence by his side, so he allowed himself to step aside for a few moments. He wore his best dress, a few alterations made recently so it would fit the occasion even if it could not possibly compete with the guests’ grand attires. Still he for once felt as pretty as he could hope to be, though of course not he nor anyone else could outshine his lovely Yuuri. The governess stood by Christophe, both seeming deeply entertained in their conversation. He looked most stunning in a gown on which Viktor himself had lovingly embroidered, giggling softly with a glass of wine in hand. Young Master Yuri was currently dancing with all omegas and alphas near his age as was his duty, sporting a good effort of not glaring at all his partners, his steps themselves gracious and fluid. It was decidedly an improvement from how he used to act. 

“Mister Nikiforov, would you have a moment for an old friend?” Christophe came to ask, a sly smile on his lips. 

He joined them indeed, though knowing very well he wouldn’t have much time to spare, enthralled by the chance of a lively conversation. Once he stood by them, Yuuri smiled bright. “We should dance at some point, Viktor. You were such a great partner last time.” He was clearly slightly tipsy, warm hand touching Viktor’s shoulder and rose cheeks drawing the man’s gaze. He was so captivating, dark eyes unforgettable. Viktor longed to dance with him if only for this night, but such a sight would be much too improper for their current setting and Viktor would never dare to blemish the Plisetsky reputation.

To Yuuri he gave the most neutral smile he could muster, ignoring the insistent drumming of his own heart and fearing Christophe could hear it by his side. “Perhaps you can dance with someone more appropriate, Yuuri.” He looked to Christophe for support, who seemed most amused by his predicament, betrayer that he was. Yuuri on the other hand looked positively disheartened, dewy pout eroding Viktor’s resolve. Weak man he was, he leaned in closer and whispered. “After everyone is gone, we can dance.”

His friend’s eyes lighted up, and he nodded in assent. Viktor felt peaceful like this, in familiar and cheerful company, among Christophe’s unceasing flirtation and Yuuri’s permanent blush. 

The party extended well into the night. Master Nikolai only demanded his presence to retire to his quarters once all remaining guests were settled in their own rooms, and for the first time in quite a while he saw a sincere smile on the elderly’s face. “It was a good night, wasn’t it? Yura had fun, I think.”

He nodded, tucking the blankets tighter around him to make sure he was comfortable. “I’m sure he did. And the house looked so alive.”

“It did. You didn’t get to dance, though.” Nikolai sounded slightly tipsy, talking so fondly to Viktor, reminding him of when he’d first came to the manor a lost child. The man even went so far as pat his cheek. “Go rest, Vitya. I’ll be fine.”

He stood and bowed, attempting to mask his haste as he went on to look for Yuuri. When he found the omega he was sat on the floor in the kitchen, comically distracted by the rests of a piece of cake placed on a palm. Soon Viktor was spotted in his place by the entryway, and his heart swelled at the delighted grin he received.

“Viktor, you promised me a dance!” 

“That I did.” He walked over and helped his dance partner onto his feet, surprisingly steady given the intoxicated shine of his eyes. He took a moment to thank the heavens, for such a sight certainly had to be cherished. “Though, in your condition I’m afraid we will have to limit it to just one dance indeed.” 

They didn’t have any music, but Viktor assumed his posture and extended a hand. Together both started humming a waltz piece that had been played earlier, safe in their impropriety at such a late hour, foreheads meeting. The gesture itself was so tender, Viktor felt all but in Heaven. 

He had been so enthralled in their slow steps that he didn’t notice any signs at all before Yuuri’s lips were on his. They were soft, as soft as the hands that found their way around his neck to pull him closer. 

The dance faded, his fingers trailing bumbling over Yuuri’s waist and stopping at his supple hips. Warmth overwhelmed him, mind hazy as a tongue touched his lip. No amount of dreaming could have prepared him for this, elation filling him to bursting.

Yuuri stumbled backwards then, dragging Viktor along with him until his friend (or something else now, he dared to hope) leaned back against the closest wall. Now that the kiss had been parted, Viktor’s voice couldn’t possibly raise over a whisper. “You are the first person I’ve ever kissed.”

“Let us hope I’m the only one.” Yuuri whispered back, and Viktor’s felt a shiver all the way to his bones. He would certainly love nothing more than to have Yuuri for himself like this, couldn’t think of any better happiness. Finally without pause he nuzzled onto a rose cheek, sweet laughter sounding close to his ear, fingers clumsily caressing his hair. “I never want to stop tasting you.”

“As you wish.”

-

More than a week passed and Yuuri didn’t once talk of that kiss again. Viktor had waited every day for the governess to come to him, for him to mention that night, for anything really. But there had been no reply nor comment, only an stuttered apology about breached sobriety, and Viktor could only say it was alright, unwilling to cause his beloved any distress. And so he buried his frustration, tried to focus on his work and what they still shared. He supposed things could be much worse, if their friendship had been lost Viktor wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself. 

He reckoned no one would notice his low spirits, experienced as he was in masking his own feelings, and for that reason he found himself unsure how to react once these expectation fell short. 

He was in the kitchens, brewing tea for Master Nikolai, when his uncle came to stand by his side. “Vitya, you are not well. You should come by for dinner so we can talk.”

Yakov’s tone was somber, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie to the man right then. His only response for now was a polite nod before he rushed upstairs, the task of bringing warmth to Mr. Plisetsky’s elderly body much more palatable than whatever waited for him that night. The day went by, his heart feeling unceasingly empty, dread mounting as he attempted to draft anything convincing enough to appease his uncle. 

Before heading out of the house at night, he stopped by Yuuri’s room to inform him they wouldn’t be able to spend the next few hours in each other’s company as usual. There he found the governess sitting by his desk, looking out the window in clear contemplation, and knocked twice on the doorframe to pull him from his thoughts. Yuuri turned to him with a smile, a caress to Viktor’s lovesick soul, and he gave in a tad to his neverending curiosity. “A penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, it’s nothing much,” Yuuri blushed as he so often did, looking abashed. “My birthday is coming up, and it will be my first away from home.” Viktor fiercely wished he wasn’t already busy, so that he could be there to talk more about his dear’s preoccupations, to soothe his worries. Because Yuuri deserved all the best, even if he didn’t seem to want all Viktor had to give. “I was just about to go to your room, Viktor. Did something happen?”

“My uncle invited me for dinner, so I’m afraid I’ll be held hostage for the night.”

Yuuri didn’t seem to be heartbroken about it, actually chuckling instead and making Viktor’s heart flutter like a bird’s. “That’s great! Send my regards to Mr. Feltsman, I hope you two have a good time.”

With a nod and a light smile Viktor went ahead. 

Yakov waited for him outside of the small cabin he called home. Viktor remembered arriving there so many years before, feeling so small and lost, much like he did right now. His uncle welcomed him inside, to worn furniture and sparse decoration as it had been since Lilia had left. Back then the house used to smell like flowers, but now another perfectly delicious scent permeated the air. Viktor recognized it as a dish his mother used to make for him when he was young, and the nostalgia weighted on his shoulders.

“I’m finishing dinner, but if you want to start speaking about whatever has happened I’m all ears.”

Viktor didn’t falter at the gruff affirmation, going to sit on one of the table chairs, watching as Yakov stirred food in the pot. “Nothing happened.” He did not wish to lie, but sharing was ever so painful and required revealing to Yakov distasteful parts of himself. However, just a glance was enough to express he did not buy Viktor’s deflection. 

“You are a good liar, Vitya, you’re just unlucky that I’m not a young governess hanging on your every word.” 

Viktor felt a chill run down his spine. Yakov couldn’t possibly know, he wasn’t so transparent as to show his true intentions with Yuuri, was he? The thought of anyone but his priest reading so deep into his feelings was frightening, but Yakov did not seem angry, so perhaps Viktor was assuming too much in his own nervousness. “I do not understand what you’re implying, uncle.”

His own cold tone was followed by heavy silence. Yakov sighed, taking the pan out of the stove and serving them both, expression somber as it always got when he could tell Viktor wasn’t being honest. For someone who didn’t have kids of his own, Yakov knew very well how to seem like a disappointed parent.

“I’m _implying_ that he did something that hurt you, and you are too caring to tell anyone about it.”

The accusation though, that broke his resolve.

“He didn’t do anything. I- I was hasty and thoughtless and didn’t consider the consequences of my actions.” Viktor knew he was babbling, but in for a penny in for a pound he supposed. If Yakov really wanted to know, Viktor would tell him, damned be it. “I should have expected that my affections wouldn’t find reciprocity on someone like him, so beautiful and educated, but he was the first person to show me how romantic love could feel and- And I flew too close to the sun.”

Yakov’s frown was deep, and Viktor cherished a smug sense of superiority for catching him off guard with that, petty and unreasonable as it was. Still his uncle did not lash out, he just sighed yet again and pressed the bridge of his own nose. “I guess I should have realized that. You never showed any interest in any of the betas Master Nikolai tried to get as your suitors, and you and the Katsuki kid did get awfully familiar lately.” For how rough it always sounded, his uncle’s voice was somehow reassuring, and somehow lacked any judgement. “Anyhow, what did your impulsiveness drag you to do this time, Vitya?”

His laugh was almost self-deprecating, though relief shone through as well. And then he told his Uncle everything, his body trembling at the weight of his words. Yakov didn’t hug him, he never did, but just his presence there, nodding as Viktor told him of his impossible infatuation with Katsuki Yuuri, was most comforting. Viktor had a hard time crying ever since he was a child, but he did shed some tears that night. With this vulnerability all his loneliness came over him as a wave. 

Yakov handed him a handkerchief, at last responding to what he’d heard. “Vitya, when I was your age I loved an omega I could never dream to marry. And I did cry over it, but eventually I stopped, because despair wouldn’t take me anywhere. I’m not saying you will ever find someone to marry you, not saying that you have to. That shan’t matter, you have work and a life here for yourself.” He then crossed his arms as Viktor wiped away his tears, regaining his composure. “You’ll be this country’s best buttler to date. If Mister Katsuki does not think you are the most eligible bachelor in this godforsaken island, he clearly has no sense to speak of.”

“Well, you’re biased on that stance.” Viktor found himself smiling despite his sadness, warmed to the core. 

His uncle glared and arched an eyebrow, all the way a beta sure of himself. “Yes, I am very biased, my nephew. And still, I’m right.”

\--

It was November 29th, and Viktor had been making sure today would be above and beyond anything Yuuri could ever expect. Young Master Yuri had _surprisingly_ been a great aid in this whole mission, helping figure out what the best possible gift would be and also maintaining Yuuri distracted enough so he wouldn’t notice the preparations in course. Viktor himself managed to cajole even Master Nikolai himself into weighting in on a more complex gift, success in no small amount due to young Yuri’s own interest, but this one would take longer to arrive and so Viktor made use of some of his own earnings to have something to give on the day proper.

The day had started with Georgi making them all pancakes for breakfast. Mila had a present for Yuuri as well: a lovely hairpin with a small ice coloured shard as decoration. Georgi made a speech that Viktor wasn’t actually listening to and handed the governess a sleek journal. Lilia on the other hand gifted him very practical black winter gloves, which was unexpected given they’d all taken much more time to fall on her good graces. Yuuri seemed deeply touched by the attention, and gave Viktor an expecting look that he promptly tried to hide. He surely couldn’t let the owner of his heart even consider the possibility Viktor had forgotten the date, so he leaned closer to grant them both some privacy. _“Wait until the night,”_ he whispered, which resulted in quite a blush on Yuuri’s part. Viktor couldn’t help but find it amusing.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, as work unfortunately didn’t abate in Yuuri’s honor, and Viktor did his best attending to Master Nikolai during the day. The baron had some business letters to reply to, and sat with Viktor to discuss the possibilities for a future wedding for his Yuri. Just like many times before, it wasn’t long before the subject was derailed in his direction. “And you, Viktor? Have you found a suitor worth your hand?”

“I’m afraid not, my lord.” Nikolai frequently worried Viktor was neglecting his own future, but Viktor lived better than most omegas he knew, free to come and go, to write, to aspire. All in detriment of a decent marriage, it was true, but he’d never regretted his choices (just the thought of getting strapped to the likes of Mister Crispino sent chills down his spine). And in the end all those paths had brought him to meeting the entrapping person that was Katsuki Yuuri. 

Once night arrived he couldn’t help but feel giddy. They dined a dish from Yuuri’s hometown that Georgi had made sure to learn for the occasion, the omega’s absolute delight urging Viktor to take his puffy cheeks in hand and exclaim how absolutely stunning he was. Only by heaven given strength did he keep eating quietly. Mila did a terrible job of keeping her expression in check, and before dinner was done everyone knew what was coming after. All the household, including the Plisetsky themselves, gathered to part a delicious cake Georgi had baked for the occasion. It was quite a cheerful celebration, Yuuri unsure what to do with himself all the while.

It was all a prelude as far as Viktor was concerned, though. After everyone found their ways into their quarters, Viktor went to retrieve the box he’d kept hidden in the cellar for weeks now. As he made his way to Yuuri’s room, he couldn't help but feel excited, wondering if maybe his beloved would choose share this gift with him. 

Viktor stood outside the door and felt much like he had the first time he’d knocked on it, anticipating possibilities. Cowardice was never a trait of his, so without further delay he knocked twice.

There was rustling inside and Yuuri opened the door, already in his familiar nightgown and smiling beautifully while ushering him in. 

“I brought you your gift. Hope you enjoy it.” His friend wasted no time sitting by the desk and opening it. 

The bottle of sake hadn’t been easy to come by, taking a trip to the capital by Christophe and a pretty penny on his part, but the emotion it evoked more than justified all costs. Happiness and nostalgia shone in Yuuri’s eyes, a tear slipping over a corner. “I don’t know how you could possibly find this, and I’m sure I never told you, but this sake is my father’s favorite. It was the first one I ever took a sip of. I- Thank you, Viktor.”

“Well, that’s not all.” He replied, leaning against the wall next to the desk. “I talked with Master Nikolai and we agreed our young beta lord could use with a few fencing lessons.” Yuuri’s eyes were already going wide before he even said it all. “And Yuri himself insisted the best one to do so would be one Mister Phichit Chulanont. So, with Master Nikolai’s permission of course, I took the liberty to send him an invitation letter. I was lucky to receive a reply just yesterday morning, and I’m happy to inform that he’ll be joining us for Christmas and New Year.”

Viktor didn’t even have the time to bask in his triumph before Yuuri surged up to hug him tightly, thanking him many more times than could ever be necessary. Viktor wanted so fiercely to kiss him, but he could not, so instead he just rubbed Yuuri’s back. Soon though his friend stepped back and took the ceramic bottle back. 

“We should drink to celebrate.”

“You don’t need to share with me.” Yuuri paid no heed to his hesitation, going for the cork with his very teeth and then looking elated that he actually managed to open it. Viktor laughed heartily alongside, accepting the offer of the first sip.

And it was the most fun he’d had on weeks. They talked about their families, Yuuri eventually regaling him with stories of his youth, like the time he and his sister had rescued a puppy. Viktor in turn shared tales of his young orphan self finding his way into this prestigious manor, making himself sound comically literary just so Yuuri wouldn’t stop smiling. The omega managed to wrestle out of him the secret that was his birthday, Christmas day as it were, and insisted he would make Viktor’s birthday as good as he had made this day. 

“Your company itself would make it splendid,” he confessed, tongue loosened with alcohol. Yuuri’s responding laugh was self deprecating, as if he couldn’t think so highly of himself, and Viktor must amend that. “You’ve changed my life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Yuuri looked at him wide-eyed and ever beautiful, and before Viktor could excuse himself for his overstepping the governess grabbed him by the collar of his nightshirt and climbed onto Viktor’s lap, kissing him with more ardour than he could have dreamed of. They were both pretty intoxicated already, and all Viktor could really do was hold Yuuri’s face between his hands, this time savoring a moment that he knew could come to an end any second now. It felt so more intimate and raw this way, both of them in small clothes, thin white cloth all the stood between them. Yuuri’s warmth burned into him but he wouldn’t dare pleading for release. 

At some other point he’d take the time to sing his praises to sake for giving this, when he wasn’t busy thinking about the way their hips pressing tight, when he wasn’t consumed by the vain hope of Yuuri still wanting him tomorrow.

\--

The next morning, when they both woke up in rumpled clothes and laying on the same bed, Viktor could almost hear Father Celestino chastising him on proper behaviours. He remembered every delicious moment of slick lips and roaming hands all too well though to ever lend an ear to reproach. 

By his side he heard a gasp, and looked at his beloved to find those deep eyes wide. 

“Oh my god, Viktor, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

Viktor could feel his own expression closing off, interjecting before his heart couldn’t take another word. “I knew what I was doing, there’s no need to apologize.” Yuuri nodded though looking elsewhere, and got up with haste to reach for a shawl. Viktor attuned to his will and did the same, he did have work to attend to after all, no time to dwell on silly daydreams. A voice that sounded remarkably like Yakov’s reminded him that he had duties and objectives that couldn’t just be put aside in favor of unreasonable idling. 

He straightened up, pat wrinkles out of his garments and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear, chancing a glance at Yuuri. He looked embarrassed, but damn him if it wasn’t adorably so, and Viktor told himself that this time they’d at least talk about this once they had the opportunity to. Caving in to his desire if only a tad, he kissed Yuuri’s forehead before walking away. “I hope we can do this again sometime.” 

Much to his heart's content, Yuuri finally smiled at him, relief settling the line of his shoulders. Not all was hopeless, it seemed. “I hope so as well. It was.. Something else.” Yuuri gave his hand a light squeeze, much like a lover’s farewell, or perhaps that was just him reading too much into the gesture.

The whole following day all he could think about was how much he wished to write about this. Yuuri was the greatest inspiration he could have ever wanted for, and Eros would understand this enrapture. He prayed that the poet who had touched him so would find love too, maybe even more requited than his own, void of regrets from both parts. He found himself drafting perhaps the inaugural poem of a new chapter of his writing, turning a page on his joyless melancholy.

Master Nikolai teased him about his distraction, claiming he was glowing and curious as for the reason. He didn’t dare voice any of his feelings lest they overflow, heart beating faster each time he and Yuuri crossed paths in the house. Neither of them could afford their affaires becoming public knowledge, dear as everyone around them was, but the thrill of romance, however heavens chose to bestow it upon him, didn’t fade at all.

**Author's Note:**

> This poem is Ask me no more, for fear I should reply, by A. E. Houseman in 1885. Accessible as always in he Victorian Queer Archive.
> 
> Ain’t these disaster queers beautiful? One more step closer to the end
> 
> Hope you liked this instalment and that we see you here next time too!
> 
> Many kisses  
> Jana


End file.
